Question, Answer?

One of the problems with how Christianity has been lived out over the past several generations is that people think that they can come to this religion as a place for answers. Which to the extent that Christianity is a religion makes sense, but if you step away from the institution and look at what it is really meant to be, and the teachings of Jesus, to come to the Christian faith for answers is absurd. Sure there are answers to the right questions in scriptures, but if we honestly look at those answers we find that they often lead to other questions, and if we are really honest we often find that our original question wasn’t what we really wanted to know anyway.

The Christian faith is about relationship. Our relationship with God, and our relationship with each other. Relationships seldom leave us with answers. Relationships are hard, messy, and complicated, because they deal with two different beings with different values, interests, and concerns. To find the common ground in relationships questions must be asked, and then more questions, and then some more. It is always a process of digging deeper, of finding out more, and eventually getting to the point once you have learned a lot about another you realize that there will always be more to learn and adapt to because just as you are not standing still in your life, neither is the other that you are in relationship with. It is a Truth that God never changes, however since he is in relationship with us and we are ever changing, the way that God relates to us as individuals, as well as the way that he is relating to our current place in history, means that God can be unchanging yet not static at the same time.

I find it interesting that Jesus almost always answered a question with another question, or a parable, but not usually an answer. Seriously, check it out. So why would he do that? Was he trying to be confusing? Did they not ask the right questions? I think that the answer is that this life isn’t about having all the answers; it is about going deeper with each other and our God. That comes from spending time being together, not from having a list of all the right answers to a bunch of questions that actually have very little importance.

My Buddy Martha

Some baristas wait a lifetime for the experience I had today; I guess I’m just lucky. One Ms. Martha Stewart came by to see me at work today. So we’re pretty much BFFs now. She and her entourage stopped in for an afternoon pick-me-up on the way to the airport after a day in Rochester.

I saw the previews for that made for TV movie about Martha a few years ago and I have to say she not anything like that. She actually was really nice, joked with me for a few minutes, and paid for her whole group (yes, I held the credit card of a woman once estimated to be worth over a billion dollars). My fellow baristas and I provided the group with the same legendary service that we would anyone at Starbucks, but we certainly weren’t falling all over ourselves to make a big deal about her. After I told her, “no, we don’t have any ice cream to pour your latte over,” one of her peons hinted that maybe I could go to the ice cream place two doors down and get some, and the others then made it a point to call her “Martha” a lot. She was fine with me not fetching her some ice cream and even gave me some suggestions about what I might do with the extra espresso. This is more or less the recipe that she suggested for me.

It was surreal to have some one so well known in front of me, engaged in friendly conversation for a good ten minutes, but I certainly didn’t wet myself or anything. I’m having a lot of fun telling people about it and I our regulars get a kick out of it.

The question everyone has asked me is “What does Martha Stewart drink at Starbucks?” Well, I’m reluctant to tell you, because honestly we probably wouldn’t do this for anyone who wasn’t Martha, so you have to promise me to not go in and start ordering it all the time. Ready??? She had us make her a tall cappuccino (one shot of espresso, half steam milk and half milk foam), and then she had us pour it over ice in a grande cold cup. (Originally she first asked for it to be poured over coffee ice cream.) I helped her refine exactly what she wanted (I didn’t want to be the one responsible for messing her drink up), and Mike made it to order so perfectly she was actually really excited and told him that it looked wonderful.

I'm not really one for autographs (except for the time in sixth grade when I went to the House of Guitars to get Poison to sign my cassette tape of their album Talk Dirty to Me), but I do wish I had her sign my green apron. That would be really cool to have. Oh well, it is a fun story about my time at Starbucks anyway. If you would like to touch the hand that touched Martha, it will cost you $1.00. Leave a comment and we'll work out the details. All proceeds will benefit the Angie iPOD Fund.

The Land of In-Between

From time to time we find ourselves in times of transitions, times when we know that a significant part of our experience of life is coming to an end with a new one about to begin. We enter into the land of the in-between when the reality of the new sets in while we are still firmly planted in the present. As we wait for the yet to be we find it very difficult to be fully present to the place that we are currently in.

Jesus was the master of being fully present, yet most of his life must have felt like this strange place, the land of in-between. He was always aware of how his life would end, how much the love he had for his disciples would cost him, and amazingly he was able to live fully in each moment. To try and live our lives out into the future, to ignore the opportunities for life that God has gifted us with today, is to be poor stewards of the things entrusted to us.

I find myself in this place now. I am doing a poor job at being present to the day-to-day, specifically in my work at Starbucks. I value the time I’ve spent there this year, the people I’ve built relationships with the things that I’ve learned to do, the time has not been wasted, but I’m counting down the days. I dread going to work, making another blended coffee beverage, putting up with rude and uppity people, I long for it to be over. But I know that this is not the attitude that God wants me to face the day with. If only I could embrace the moment and look at each day as a chance to continue to be salt and light, to live in such a way that makes the day all that it was meant to be. The day is not meant to be wished away. Our experiences with others are opportunities to get and give grace, and when we can get over our whininess long enough to realize that it is not all about us we can see God at work in places we wish we didn’t have to be.

Jesus, may I have the grace to be where I am and in doing so may I realize that it is there that you are with me, because it is there that you have me to be. Amen.

On the Edge

I’m on the cusp of something big here. I realize making the jump from barista to pastor is an obvious big step, but I have a deep sense that this is going to be good. It’s one of those rare times in life that many things come together in a way that it is obvious God is working in a number of people that all seem to be listening and moving in a common direction. Now as the paths of Angie and I and the Honeoye Falls UMC come together it is amazing to see all that Jesus has been doing in my life to fall into place in this way.

If my life where a movie the ending credits would be about to roll, with a slow but intense Coldplay song playing underneath. It is definitely the end of a chapter, but it’s the kind of ending that you know really isn’t an ending, there is more to come, and its going to be good. I almost feel silly even talking like this, since I haven’t spent a lot of time with anyone from the church, and I’ve only met a small handful. But the excitement and anticipation that I feel in the deepest parts of my soul is the stuff of celebration that only comes when you have walked through fire and come out stronger on the other side.

Will there be days that the task of pastoring a diverse group of people seem overwhelming? Sure. Might I be disheartened at times as it seems that I care about the spiritual health of individuals more than they do? Very possibly. Will there be days that I wish I would have drank a little more coffee, or stayed in bed a while longer, went for that run, anything but doing what this calling has me doing on that day? Hey, it is still a job, and I’m still human. But to finally get to be doing what it is that God has been readying me for for so many years now, that is plain awesome. What a ride.

Would God Pick Up Your Poop?

So I was out in the back yard tonight doing what seems like an every other day occurrence lately: picking up Molly’s poop (just for the record Molly is my dog, please refer to the post “ANGIE” if you thought Molly was my wife). This particular act, and the frequency there of, got me to thinking about how much I really do love my dog. This was an easily arrived at meditation because as I did the “dirty work” Molly played with her new toy. This new toy consists of a fairly heavy-duty 9’ tire (think mini-Big Foot tire) that has one of those dog chew ropes with the knots attached. Well it was easy to love her despite the poop because she had the business end of the rope in her mouth, whipping it around as hard as she could, which meant the rubber tire was beating against her head with loud thumps. Great stuff. Since I’ve paid big money for a theology degree I’ve allowed myself to be brainwashed to the point of when ever I’m thinking about love I try and relate it to God’s love. Sometimes this intellectual exercise leads to wonderfully enlightening sermon illustrations that make the old ladies giggle with glee over how much I help them understand Jesus better, and make middle school kids spit on themselves because they try to hold in the laughter, because they think it is bad to laugh in church. Other times I just think of really odd or lame illustrations that I used to just inflict on my wife, but now I can just blog about them.

So the thought progression went something like this: 1) I must really love my dog to put on gloves, get out a plastic bag, and scour my yard hunched over for poo, 2) I sure wouldn’t do this for anyone else (with a brief mental sidebar about if I do love Angie enough to pick up her poop, but I’ll save that for another blog), and 3) (here’s were the big money for the Master’s of Theology really pays off) I wonder if God loves me enough to pick up my poo. Of course initially the question was literal, but that’s a dumb question because when I was a kid I remember hanging out with this other kid in a field and he was telling me about how he had to poop in the woods once when he was camping and had to clean up his business end with leaves from a tree and the phobia I already had about not knowing what poison ivy looked like immediately linked with an aversion to camping, so I would never be pooping somewhere that needed picking up anyway. So then I started considering the question metaphorically, which also allows me to use my B.A.which is in philosophy, and I realized that God does love me enough to pick up my poop. But I think it makes him sad.

You see how often do we make messes in our relationship and then beg for God’s help in cleaning it up? And even when we don’t ask for help, when we do crappy things to other people, I think God cares more about restoration of relationships than we do and goes farther than we realize in helping to rectify the situation.

Over all that’s all I got. Not all that profound, and if I thought that any of my professors read my blog I would apologize, but if nothing else I sure got to type “poop” more than I ever have before.

Pastors Are Dorks

Pastors are dorks. Did I seriously need to tell you this? Unless you already are a pastor, or married to one, did you disagree with this statement? Well, I’ve never been on a crusade about letting the world know this, in fact I never really gave much thought to it. However, there must be something really ingrained deep within me that witnesses to this truth. How do I know this? Because the overwhelming thought that kept going through my mind (besides the emotion of excitement) when I found out that I would be pastoring a church is that I’m not nearly dorky enough to be a pastor. Mind you, I have no illusion that I’m not already dorky. I’m very clear on the fact that I am a big dork. Even with that being said, I have a hard time getting over this deep seeded stereo-type about not being dorky enough to be a pastor. I suppose in theory I am ready to give up some things that might define my coolness until now. I mean it is probably time to stop buying funky colored sneakers. As I shop for a new car I will resist getting something fast, and lean more towards practical, although I refuse to get a minivan. It may be about time to retire the disc golf, but I’m not so sure about that. I don’t plan on giving up going to the Little Cinema for interesting thought provoking movies (that may be borderline on the cool/dork scale anyway), and I actually hope to see more live music than I have recently, but in club settings as good music was meant to be heard not some big arena. I have also been giving very serious thought to pulling the trigger on a new tattoo of late.

Overall I imagine that I won’t change much in this new switch. In my high school years I was definitely on a crusade to show that Christians could be cool, but I’ve been over that for a long time now. In fact, if I somehow got to be known as “the cool pastor” I think I might puke. If coolness or dorkiness are what define me as a pastor, or even as a Christian for that matter, than I have failed in living a life that points others to Jesus. But in defense of many of the younger pastors I know, very few are total dorks. Maybe it’s something that comes with time. Something to look forward to!

Big News

Alright, so Bishop Fisher has appointed me as the pastor of Honeoye Falls United Methodist Church. Angie and I are both really excited about this and feel like it will be a great fit for everyone. We’ve known for a week now, but have had to keep quiet about it until it was publicly announced at the church first. In that time excitement has been my main emotion, I’m sure the weight of the responsibility will hit me soon, but for now I’m just going to enjoy it. I’m resisting jumping in with both feet for now. My start date is July 1^st and from that point on it will consume a large part of my life. While I will be using the time between now and then to prepare some things and start meeting more people from the church I won’t be devoting all my non-work time to church related issues. I will definitely spend a lot of time between now and then with Jesus and making sure that my heart is inline with his and seeking his face for the sake of the congregation that I have been called to serve.

One thing that I have thought a lot about in the last week is all that God’s Grace has done to and for me. I just keep thinking back to how I was as a middle school kid and the pain I was to pretty much everyone and how God so chased me down that I finally said yes to him and have been chasing him back ever since. It still amazing me the depth of the change that God has worked in my life, the way that Jesus takes that which is seemingly valueless and busted and says, “This is my treasure and I will use it for great things.” By the standard of the world I really should have ended up fairly messed up from the experiences I had as a kid and the path I was heading down as I began to make my own choices about life in adolescence. But that was not God’s plan, and while it somewhat oversimplifies it to say it this way it really is true, all I had to do is say yes to that plan again and again. Jesus has wrecked my life past the point of recognition since I agreed to be caught by his love and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.

Jesus, thank you for never giving up on me and for calling me to help others find you in the depths of this messiness that we find ourselves in. May I be true to you, may my heart be your heart, and may I find myself among those willing to have you wreck their lives too. Amen.

ANGIE!

Angie my wife, who is a woman all unto her own, is so much more than just a girl that married me. Angie is one of the most amazing people that I have ever met, and I am honored to share this life with her, as we both uniquely contribute to what make us an “us.”

You see, Angie was a little upset with me that I refer to her in my blogs only as “my wife.” As if I view her spousal role as the only thing that defines her, which I know she knows isn’t the case in reality, but she felt that way because of my references to her by her marital title. This has been a conscience choice of mine, to not use her name that is, but mostly out of fear of some weirdo on the web knowing more than he needs to about the woman I love so much. But the reality of it is, unless it is an extremely unintelligent weirdo, it would probably be easy to put two and two together and figure out that the link to Angie on my blog is to the woman I am honored to be the husband of.

So just to put her mind at ease, I want to let her know and the whole world (or the half-dozen or so that read my blog) to know exactly what I think of Angie. Angie is truly one of the most unique and spirited people I have even met in my life. She truly is my soul mate, which among other definitions I would agree with Robin Williams’ character in Good Will Hunting where he describes a soul mate as “someone who challenges you.” Among Angie’s considerable talents are that she can read really fast and cares for others far more deeply than she likes to acknowledge or let be known. She can be very funny, often gruff, and enjoys the finer things in life such as Starbuck’s Mochas and my cooking. As tough as she is inside and out she has a very tender, one might say squishy, soul. This is most readily seen in the love she has for her good friends, siblings, extended family members, dog, amazingly handsome husband (who doesn’t at all mind not being referred to as Matthew), and Jesus.

Forrest Gump said the he and Jenny where like peas and carrots. I think Angie and I are more like gum and long hair on a hot day. There are very distinct things about each of us, and there is no mistaking which is which, but if you think you can separate the two, forget it. Angie is most certainly a she and a we, and any future mention of her in either category is not meant to be limiting to any extent.

Give and Take

"Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised." Job 1:21

These are Job’s words as his world starts caving in around him, as he loses most of his children in a tragic accident. I’ve been talking with friends lately about weather or not God causes the bad things that happen to us or not, and generally we are not comfortable in saying yes to that. However, I do think that God takes away things that are important to us from time to time to help us remember that it is he that we want. It’s not that I think God takes away things like children or friends, that would be God directly causing catastrophic tragedy, but I do think he will remove us from positions, jobs, relationships, in order to help us keep our eyes fixed on him.

That is where I’m at in life right now. While I was in agreement with God on many levels that it was time for me to step back from my position as a youth minister, it still has been an earth moving change in my life to not be doing fulltime ministry right now. And as I head back on the path leading me once again to fulltime ministry I find the thought of being employed as such in the next year or two as the comforting thought that gets me through tough days. And that puts me in the position of putting my trust and hope in something other than God, and one of the reasons that I think it was important for me to step back from professional ministry for a time. My hope, my trust, my consolation should come from God and God alone.

So in awareness of where my heart is from time to time, I ask myself if I would be okay if I was never employed as a fulltime pastor again. Sure I can come up with all kinds of reasons as to why that would be stupid if it happened, some of them even fairly spiritual. One of the bigger reasons is that God has gifted me as a pastor and I wouldn’t be a good steward of his gifts if I were to never do it again. But then I read the words of Job, and I realize that this calling and these gifts are from God. And as much as it would break my heart to never again do the duties of a pastor, a role that I love for so many reasons, ultimately my purpose in life is to be God’s child and God will go to great lengths to remind me that his love for me is what defines me, not my professional title.

Do I think that I will be a pastor again sometime in the future and that is what God has ordained my life for on this earth? Yes, I fully believe that. But God wants my heart to be in a place that is okay if that were to never happen again. He wants to know, wants me to know, that I would still be as wildly in love with him and trust him in every way even without using my gifts for pastoral ministry. Let it be.

Waiting

My wife questioned me the other day as to why I haven’t written anything lately for my blog, and since I’m procrastinating from about three or four fairly important tasks that I should be working on this afternoon, I thought I would write something up now.

I actually did have another posting about the Jesus Family Tomb thing that was on TV, but then I realized that nobody really seem to notice or care about it, so I took that post down. I also have been really on edge about my future of late, and I’ve found it hard to write anything really worth sharing. At this point I sense pretty strongly that not only is God calling me back into vocational ministry, but that it will happen sooner rather than later. I’m still waiting to hear if I will be appointed to a church this summer or not. While it is really exciting to know of some of the potential places I might end up as the pastor, it is a becoming nerve racking to just not know. While I know I’ve been stressing about it during waking hours of late, I think it’s starting to affect my sleep as well. In addition to being tired (which also might be a by-product of getting up at 4:00am a couple times a week to go sell coffee), I’ve been feeling like someone’s been taking a pipe to my gut over night. Maybe I should move the softball bat that my wife keeps next to her side of the bed.

As I wait to hear if I’ll be placed at a church I’ve been looking at other options and making some adjustments for the time being. I start this weekend working the overnight a few times a week stocking at the best grocery store chain in the world. There is also a full-time youth pastor position that interests me more than a little. I really hope to get some word by the end of the month about church stuff, the sooner the better.

The Darkness

We must first peer into the darkness, feel strangled and entombed in the hopelessness of living without God, before we are ready to feel the presence of His living light. -Abrahan Joshua Heschel

The darkness, the distance, we sometimes feel from God can offer a much needed balance to our relationship with God. Maybe this distance is self induced, or a divine corrective due to our worship of that which is not God. There are times that we allow good and valuable things to step out of their rightful place in our lives and give them a place of prominence only rightfully reserved for God. So our journey in the wilderness is one that often comes from our own misguided trust in that which is not God.
If God were to immediately pluck us out of these situations we may never have to fully trust in God for direction, because there would be little consequence for us in following our own way. So the stuckness that we often experience is not necessarily divine judgement for our stubbornness or stupidity, but rather Grace working deep within us to bring life from that which would otherwise suffocate the faith within us.

In Search of Me

So have you ever done a search with your name? I did recently, both on a social networking website and through a standard search engine, and found it to be rather interesting. First, there are actually a lot of people with my name, which is kind of scary (what if one becomes famous for serial killing or something) and also a little cool. Since I have never actually met anyone else with my name I’ll have to take this on faith and cast aside the voices in my head that try and tell me this is all a plot against me and there really are no other people with my name. Second, the good news: I’m not the dumbest, ugliest, geekiest, red-neckiness, loneliest, twisted, alcohol consumingiest, of the lot. Third, the sad truth: I’m not the buffest, best looking, smartest, wealthiest, most popular, or artistically talented either.
I even found some guy with my name that died in 1814, whose will was online. Wow, that shows how behind the times I am, I had no idea that the Internet existed before his death that he might post it there. Among the interesting things I was able to learn about this fellow, was the tragedy of him being a slave own (one Fanny and daughter Nancy, whom he left to his wife), that he didn’t seem to like his son Isaac much (whom was left “the bottom that he sits on”), that although he died in Virginia well after the War of Independence he still willed all his money out in pounds, and that he felt it necessary to will his soul to God (as if God required the proper legal documentation). I have no reason to actually believe that I am related to this man in any way since to the best of my knowledge my lineage doesn’t go back that far in the states.
Some British bloke has very selfishly snatched up all the domain names with my name with the various endings such as .net, .org, and .com. The sad thing is they are all the same really lame website, and he isn’t doing anything particularly interesting with them.
In addition to doctors and lawyers, and cops, my favorite find of those that share my name was a photo of an infant, with the caption “Our Little Ladybug.” While I find this somewhat humorous, and I have no problem with parents having daughters play with trucks and son’s with dolls, I think it might be in the kids best interest for someone to give me a slightly more dudish nickname.
Overall, I may never be the best Matthew French at any particular thing, I must still be faithful to doing the best with what I’ve best giving. Maybe that will end up on a website someday, oh wait, now it is (this blog was the 33rd result of over 10 million at the time this post was written, wow). Those Matthew French’s are some insightful people.

The Love of My Life

I’ve been thinking a lot about Jesus lately. Not that this is unusually or anything, I think about and talk to him a lot. More specifically I’ve been thinking about why it is so hard to talk to others about him. Jesus is so important, such a central part of my life, he is the only thing that is more important to me than my wife, and yet I find it difficult to talk about the one that I am so intimate with. In some ways I can make connections to my marriage, while I am willing to talk about my relationship with my wife with others, 99% of those conversations are about superficial things: Angie and I went here, we watched such and such, we did this. It’s not that I’m sharing about our intimate conversations, or the special moments that I treasure in my heart, or other deeply private things that we share. And that is the sort of relationship that I have with Jesus, and since he and I don’t go to the movies, grab coffee, or go on vacation together (we actually do, but that would be another article and it would be hard to get into the theological depths of that truth in a casual conversation about how Jesus and I ate at Subway together without people thinking I was nuts and making Jesus look that much less appealing to others), so it is hard to share what he means to me.
This really hit home for me a couple weeks ago when while at work I over heard a conversation where people were making fun of Jesus. Now I realize that they were actually making fun of Christians and the silly things that they say about Jesus, but still they were demeaning the most important part of my life. If they had been making fun of my wife I have no doubt that I would have stood up for her. But instead I said nothing, partly because I was not privy to the entire conversation and had no idea the context so I wanted to avoid seeming reactionary, giving further ammunition to some people that had obviously been turned off to Jesus by others that had talked about him in the past.
For me, sharing Jesus isn’t about me being right. It’s not about defending his honor because I don’t think he’s up to. It’s about my deep desire to have others know him and have their lives transformed by him in the same way that he came into my life and turned it upside down by his love. I need to be more confident about this passion and not get hung up on turning others off, when in humility and love I just might be able to introduce others to this Jesus, the love of my life and the one that already knows and cares about them more than anyone they will ever meet in their lives.

Coffee Advice

OK, I have worked professionally in coffee all that long, but as a long time coffee lover I think I’ve been able to take my coffee knowledge and passion to the next level rather quickly. Much how like Ang and I only date for six months or so before we got engaged because we had been friends for so long and knew each other really well already. Anyway.
First off, if you just like to dump a bunch of cream and sugar in your coffee don’t bother reading this post. Save the time and do something else, honest you probably really don’t like coffee you like sugary, creamy things and won’t get much out of this. I do have advice for you though if you’re in that boat, it doesn’t much matter where you get your coffee, you probably prefer a milder brew so just go where it’s cheapest. That may not be totally true, I’m doing some research one how coffee farmers are treated around the world and will post once I learn more about that.
So for my fellow coffee lovers here is my number one piece of advice: go out and get a French press. Seriously, you have to do this. There are relatively inexpensive ($20-50) and will make the best cup of brew that you’ve ever had. I have the top of the line jobber, which is stainless steal and insulated, which means that I can brew it and keep it warm for a while, but if I had to do it over again I’m not sure it’s the one I would get. The glass ones are actually much easier to use because they have lines to direct you how much grounds to put in and then how much water in relation to the grounds. The most important thing is to have your beans ground for a French press, which would be a very coarse grind. Also, be careful about slamming down the last sip of the cup, even with a coarse ground you often get a little sludge in the bottom of the cup. By the way, Starbuck's policy is that they will grind beans that you buy anywhere as long as they aren't flavored. The flavoring process leaves behind stuff in the grinder that would affect other beans natural flavor.
Why is the press such a good method? The oils that are present in coffee give each bean it’s characteristics after roasting. It doesn’t matter how good your electric coffee maker is, the paper filter will retain a lot of these oils. Of coarse there are metal filters, but your looking at big buck there. Also, anything that keeps your coffee hot with a heat source is actually killing your coffee’s real taste anyway. Also, keep your grounds at room temperature regardless of how you’re brewing. Refrigeration or freezing your beans will not prolong their life, it actually will wreck them quicker. This also has to do with the oils in coffee which get messed with big time when get them cold.
If you’re hard-core enough and have the resources to do your own espresso try some different roasts. I’m really loving shots pulled with Italian Roast right now. Depending on who you buy your beans from Italian Roast should actually be a little darker than Espresso Roast, but it has a slight sweetness to it that is different from the caramelly characteristic found with espresso. I have other customers that enjoy some other roasts too, so have fun with it.
If you’re really scared of espresso, but want to check it out, you should try a con panna. It’s an espresso shot with whip cream. I don’t do them a lot, but there are really yummy.

Pastor Guy

So it’s official, I have been accepted back into the ordination process in the United Methodist church and have been recommended to the cabinet to be appointed as a local pastor. This has been a long road to come to this decision, but I think that process has been beneficial and necessary that God might have me where I am. There are no guarantees that I will be appointed to a church this year, but I’m hopeful. Not only am I one of the low people on the totem pole, but we have asked to stay in Rochester, which limits the options.
I know that I am gifted for pastoral ministry and I’m really excited about it, but I also know what a huge responsibility it is and I have a healthy fear of that. I was frustrated with how poorly I communicated to the district ordination committee about how I see my call to pastoral ministry in the United Methodist Church and my call to Gen X being connected. It’s really quite simple, I think the best way to provide spiritual leadership to Gen X’ers is by having a healthy church of people that love Jesus of all ages. There is a lot to be said about gathering multiple generations together in a local church that meets the deepest needs of God’s children and better equips them to honor God with lives of worship.
If I do get appointed to a church it will be this summer at the earliest. There is something kind of cool about having a time of preparation before I take this step, but there is also the practical side of things as well. And that practical side of things says that 30 hours a week at just a little over minimum wages doesn’t pay the bills. I’m in the process of trying to pick up some more hours in addition to the coffee thing.

Year In Review

I’ve always like December. I remember back to age 5 or 6 and watching Entertainment Tonight, or so some show like it, and being excited about the year-in-review type story they did. I found it fun to look back over the year and see if I remembered certain things, and that continued especially during the years that I was really into MTV and they would do the year’s top 100 video countdowns and such. Outside of a top-movies-of-the-year list I don’t necessarily look forward to December for entertainment remembrance, but I do like to take the time to look back over my life for the past twelve months this time of year.
2006 has been the toughest year of my adult life. While I certainly had an inkling that this year would be hard before it started, there was definitely a part of me that secretly thought that everything was going to be very easy and my new life changes and choices would be a huge success. But that’s not to say that any of this took me by surprise either. When I stepped out in faith, believing that God was calling me out of youth ministry mid-2006, I was ready to accept that things might not work out in a “happily ever after” fashion. That being said, I guess it wouldn’t necessarily be any easier to breath if I were told in advance that I was going to have the wind knocked out of me.
Even at this point my life is still very much up in the air, but I have a peace about the direction that I am now heading. With some direction, the assurance that I should be in pastoral ministry, I feel good about 2007 and what it will hold for my wife and I. I’m excited about being appointed somewhere and settling in for a good long tenure as a young pastor somewhere. I’m finally at that point in life where I feel like I have enough experience behind me to speak into other adult’s lives, but with so much still to learn and experience. It will be cool to learn in grow in the context of a community where my role is pastor.

Little Pieces of You

Lately I’ve been reconnecting with people that I haven’t had contact with in a while. Mostly through signing up on Myspace and reading what old friends are up to, some in random meetings. This reminds me of experiences and moments shared with these people; happenings that at one time were central to who I was at the time. And while much has happened since then this process of reflecting on the past has reminded me that I am a sum of my many experiences. Those experiences weren’t just events, but shared events that are a part of the people that I was with at the time. I think it’s cool to see how many of us who shared very similar lives at one time have gone in so many different directions. I certainly don’t claim to have played major roles in all of these people’s lives, and I don’t pretend to hold influence on where they are or who they’ve become now, but I do feel a connected in some way.
Our feelings of independence and self-reliance are largely lies. We are deeply formed by our experiences shared with other people. I so often forget this. I think it’s our selfishness that makes us what to believe that we make ourselves, that we can go it on our own.
It might have been a deep friendship that time has faded, maybe it was a passing comment remembered by no one that started us in a direction of thought that ended being essential to who we’ve become, it could even be someone that we deeply disagreed with or even disliked, but it was our interaction with that person that caused us to more passionately believe something. Regardless of the level of interaction, if we are honest we cannot disregard the impact that others have had on our lives. We are not alone, we do not exist as islands, we are not strangers passing blindly in the dark night. We are exactly that… “we.” Me is only an unique collection of the shared us. So to all those that have shared in making me who I am thankful (except for maybe all the crap that makes me a crazy jerk, but I’m not beyond taking responsibility for that).

Because of...

Grace. It is grace that comes into our brokenness and wraps around us like a healing balm. It softens the rough edges and creates a safe barrier between the sharp barbs of our souls and those that surround us. As I’ve struggled to find who I am and what God is calling me to during this time of transition, I have misheard his whisper, the one that gently guides us in the right direction. This has shattered my confidence, not in God’s ability to speak, but in my ability to hear. In the brokenness that results from this paralyzing fear there is love. That love is the grace that mends and brings wholeness where there is none on our part, where in our souls only emptiness is felt, yet grace makes us complete even as we lack. This grace does not always lead to the sensation of wholeness, but we are full nonetheless.
I don’t pretend to understand either the depth of my brokenness, or that of the grace that fills in the gaps. While the perspective that time and fuller views of the bigger picture will bring will help me to comprehend what has happened in this time of my life, and what it is that I need to take from it, I don’t think my understanding is the point. There are deep changes happening in me right now. Undercurrents that were so heavily defended or hidden, that only such raw disappointment and hurt were going to get through into the far reaches of my soul. It is these places that grace needed to find its way and yet, consciously or not, I would not permit it to be there. I do not claim that God caused certain situations in order that I might learn new lessons. However, I do know that grace will not pass up opportunities to more deeply move into the innermost areas of our being, and there are times that only in our being broken is grace able to penetrate to these depths. This is not because Jesus is not able to reach these places, when in fact he is already there. But Jesus will not force his influence where we do not allow for grace’s entry.
Behold, he stands at the door and knocks, and while we may call out with the invitation to enter we hardly mean it. Then something happens to rock our homes to the foundations, and the doors are thrown off their hinges and our muffled cries for Jesus to come in are met with his gentle touch of healing. The gentle touch that is… grace.

Back and Jacked

Okay, after a few very strange months I'm back. Let's just say the insurance sales thing door to door was not at all me, no big surprise there. But trying to make it work really threw me off my game for a while, something that I'm still working on. But after a few weeks of looking for work I am once again gainfully employed. The new position is a much better fit with my passions and personality. To avoid any legalities, we'll just say that I work for a large coffee retailer at one of their local stores, the one that happens to be done the street from my house. It is all the caffeine that has me jacked by the way.
No longer working for the church fulltime continues to be a huge adjustment, which was needed, and I am starting to see how this might pan out. I don't think that doing just the coffee thing is the best possible solution as far as finances and using all my gifts, so I'm contemplating what else I might do in addition and how that might play off each other. I think it would be awesome to be doing something else in the city as well. I love Rochester.

Life or Something Like It

It's been a really crazy last few weeks, and there isn't any significant let up in the near future. The nice thing is that I at least have some down time this afternoon and this evening, which is a change over recent weeks. I am no longer employed as a youth pastor and have been in licensing school to become an insurance agent in the state of New York. I can't believe that I'm actually excited to say that as of this morning I am now licensed to sell insurance in the state of New York. Now that I've got that done I get to do sales training for the next week and a half, but I don't start that until tomorrow.
While I'm in this process of training for this new career that has the potential for making a pretty good income I'm also reading this book about the "Simple Way" in Philly. It's a great perspective to keep in front of me while I'm here in Albany for three weeks.
I miss my wife. I miss my dog. I miss my house and my city. Can't wait to get back and figure out what life as an agent looks like for me.